


You'll Soon Forget

by melasaik



Series: Something In The Way You Bloom [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), TW: Suicide Mention, no one dies or gets hurt but it still might upset people so, proceed with caution i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 04:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melasaik/pseuds/melasaik
Summary: “Fuck Connor, what are we even doing here? It doesn’t even matter, you just postponed the inevitable. I’m gonna die one way or another, what does it matter if it’s old age or my fucking gun killing me?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a prequel to my first fic Beta-Endorphins because I order for me to continue that story I needed to write and post this first because it's gonna be mentioned later on. But you don't need to read this to understand Beta-Endorphins and vice versa.  
> The title is a reference to the song Youth by Daughter because it partially inspired this fic, but the main reason why I wrote this is because the fact that Hank is suicidal isn't really addressed in most fics (which is fine don't get me wrong) but it's a big deal in my little headcanon for Hank and Connor so yeah, it's a dark topic but I hope you enjoy reading this anyway!  
> (Had to break it up in 2 parts because it's kinda long)
> 
> Also: English isn't my first language so if you spot any mistakes (grammar, weird way of saying something and so on) please don't hesitate to tell me!!  
> (I'm serious please tell me, I'm studying translation it's kinda important for me to know when I make mistakes in English)

November 2039  
  
It’s been 354 days since Connor turned deviant, almost a year and things were going really well. Thanks to Markus conditions for androids kept improving and Connor was able to join the Detroit Police as a full-time investigator and became the official partner of Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Something Connor was secretly very proud of.  
  
On the other hand, what wasn’t going well was Hank.  
Not their relationship as co-workers or their friendship but Hank as a person. Connor was aware that Hank wasn’t well from the very second they met and his impression of Hanks mental health just worsened as time went on.  
And Connor didn’t know what to do, he felt useless.  
  
Over time he came to care about a number of things, Hanks dog Sumo, other people at the DPD, Markus and the other members of Jericho… but he cared most about Hank. It was hard to put it in words, he still struggled a lot with expressing his feelings but to him Hank was the reason why he was able to free himself of CyberLife’s control in the first place. Hank was special to him. So very special.   
  
He might not have been with Connor every step of the way, since they had a rough start and all, but he was there for the most crucial steps. He was willing to sacrifice himself, so Connor could help Markus fight for their people. A human willing to die for the sake of androids, for the sake of his freedom.  
And Connor wanted to do the same thing for Hank so _very_ badly. Hank wasn’t under the control of CyberLife, or any other huge company for that matter, what kept Hank from being free was his own mind.  
Connor had basic knowledge of first aid for physical injuries but for mental health? Not a chance.  
  
\- - 10101 - -  
  
In the past 354 days he walked into Hank playing Russian Roulette twice.  
Once on Coles' birthday and once on the day Cole died. He initially wanted to keep Hank company on those days because he expected him to be upset and the thought of Hank sitting alone at home, grieving didn’t sit well with Connor.  
But what he found instead was a drunk Lieutenant with a gun to his head and the picture of his son laying in front of him on the kitchen table. And he had the saddest look on his face when he noticed Connor standing a few steps away from the table.  
  
He put the gun down both times, tears filling his eyes, Connor helped him get up and guided him to his bed, after that he stayed the night.  
Both times he checked the gun, on Coles Birthday the next shot wouldn’t have killed him, on the day of his death it would have.  
A cold shiver ran down Connors spine as he looked at the lonely bullet.  
  
When he asked Hank if it was just those two days on which he played Russian Roulette he evaded the question. Not the actual answer to what Connor was asking but an answer nonetheless.   
And the worry that came with said answer was eating Connor up.  
  
While Connor couldn’t talk about his feelings (due to not understanding them) Hank didn’t _want_ to talk about them which made things even harder for Connor because it was nearly impossible to sense on which days Hank was thinking about suicide and on which days he wasn’t and Connor also couldn’t just start camping in front of Hanks doorstep just in case.  
He grew anxious to the point of shaking a little every morning when he was picking up Hank for work. Him, an android, a machine, was shaking out of fear of Hank maybe not opening the door.  
  
The incident on Coles day of death left Connor pretty shaken up, it had happened in October, now it was November and he analysed every single word he said to Hank, out of fear he’d say something that would make him want to kill himself again.  
He didn’t tell him that the next shot would’ve killed him for that very reason. He also found himself showing up at Hanks house a lot more often, every time with a different excuse because he didn’t want to leave the other man alone.  
  
“I was wondering how Sumo’s doing.”  
  
“I found this recipe for a healthy meal that looks very tasty, I already bought all the necessary ingredients so let me cook for you because I won’t be able to eat it anyway!”  
  
“Someone at the station told me that there’ll be a livestream of  a Jazz festival in Europe, you like Jazz right? I thought maybe you’d like to watch it, I can access the European servers!”  
  
“You looked tired when you left today so I was wondering if you’d like for me to take Sumo out for a walk!”  
  
“I passed by Chicken Feed just now and I got you a Burger! I still don’t approve of fast food but it’s better than the stuff you sometimes put in your microwave.”  
  
“Someone gifted me a coupon for this new restaurant that’s opening up close to the DPD, I don’t have much use for it so I wanted to give it to you!”  
  
\- - 10101 - -  
  
“Oh now what the fuck are you doing here again?” Hank rolled his eyes after opening the door. If he took a shot every time Connor showed up at his house, unannounced, he would be laying in a hospital bed with severe alcohol poisoning by now.  
Connor quickly scanned his partner, he hadn’t showered in three days, his shirt was old and stained, he noticed the smell of alcohol in his breath, dark circles under his eyes.  
_Hank is having a bad day_ , Connor noted, fear creeping up his spine again.  
“I was out shopping today and I saw this shirt in one of the stores I visited and it reminded me of you, so I bought it, I hope I chose the right size!”  
  
It was a Saturday, both of them had the day off. Captain Fowler let Connor basically live at the DPD since the Android didn’t see much use in renting his own flat. But because Fowler let him stay there he also knew how much time Connor was spending in the building and urged him to at least go out for a while on his days off. Which he did, to take his mind off of Hank but it obviously didn’t work because when he was standing in front of Hanks house this time it wasn’t some stupid excuse, he was serious, he couldn’t even go shopping without anything reminding him of his partner, so he actually did buy Hank a shirt.  
  
Hank took the shopping bag Connor was holding towards him and looked inside. He wasn’t sure if it was cute of Connor to think of him or if the Android was trying to insult him because boy, that was one ugly shirt.  
  
Hank sighed. “Thanks a lot Connor … then I’ll see you on Monday.” He was just about to close the door when Connor stopped it with his foot. “I … I thought maybe I could come inside and, uh … check on Sumo!”  
“You check on Sumo every other fucking day Connor, you might want to refresh your knowledge on dogs, they don’t change a whole lot in the span of like two days.”  
“I believe my knowledge of dogs is perfectly fine, it also tells me that dogs can suffer from emotional damage if they are separated from someone they care about. I think Sumo does care about me, so I’d like to see him regularly in order to prevent him feeling uneasy due to my absence.”  
Hank rolled his eyes and groaned. “For fucks sake Connor. Fine, knock yourself out.”  
  
Connor closed the door behind himself as he was heading inside but instead of walking over to Sumo, who was laying on the Sofa, he followed Hank into the kitchen. The older man was cleaning up the table, but he wasn’t fast enough, and Connor started analysing the room. The picture of Cole was still standing there, as well as a bottle of Whisky (Connor already noticed the smell of alcohol in Hanks breath earlier, so he wasn’t surprised), what was missing to complete the familiar scene was the gun but the bullets laying around gave it away, Hank must’ve taken them out, only left one in the gun. He probably put the gun away before he opened the door for Connor.  
  
Connor clenched his fist, trying to stay calm was important now. “Lieutenant, you were playing again, am I correct?”  
Hank turned around too look at him. “What?”  
“The picture of your son, the bullets, the Whisky … you were playing Russian Roulette again. You were trying to kill yourself, _again_.”  
“So? Big fucking news.” Hank shrugged, his voice defensive and his gaze challenging.  
This was already not going the way Connor had hoped it would.  
“Lieutenant, I’m worried about you. You can only play this game for so long, one day you will lose.”  
Hank let out a short laugh. “I think you meant to say that I’ll eventually win.”  
  
Connors fingernails were digging into his artificial skin. It didn’t hurt. What _did_ hurt was what Hank said next. “What’s it to you anyway? Worried? You’re a damn machine Connor stop making a fucking fool of yourself.”  
He didn’t look Connor in the eyes, instead he had his eyes fixed on the table, on the picture of his son, holding onto a chair for support.  
His pulse increased, and his heart was beating faster, Hank was angry.  
  
“Yes I am a _damn_ machine but I’m also a _damn_ deviant and very well capable of being worried about someone I-“  
The chair Hank was grabbing now got thrown over to the side and landed on the floor, the noise made Sumo whine.  
“Shut the fuck up Connor! Don’t act like you know what it’s like to lose someone, to grieve, to feel like your insides are fucking dying because you hurt so much and don’t know how to live on. I’ve tried Connor, I’ve fucking tried for so many damn years and I won’t leave, it’ll never get better or easier to live like this and it doesn’t even matter? No one fucking cares anyway, who would? I’m just a sad, drunk old-“  
  
Connor grasped Hank by the wrists holding them tight and looking him straight in the eye.  
“I care Lieutenant! And I may not understand what it’s like to lose someone, to grieve and to hurt to the point of life being unbearable. I don’t _understand_ it, but I _get_ it.”  
Hank tried to free himself of Connors hold but he didn’t let go, he just held his wrists even tighter.  
“Look at me. Look at me Hank!” The use of his first name made his eyes snap to Connor, out of reflex, but once he locked eyes with the Android he couldn’t look away anymore.  
“I get it because when I think about how I might walk in here one day and be greeted by the smell of your blood instead of the smell of Beer it _hurts_. When I think about you lying on the floor with a hole in your head it _hurts_. When I think about you not being with me one day it hurts _so_ much. And I don’t know how that’s even possible because I shouldn’t feel that, but I do so _please_ , Hank, don’t ever say that no one cares because I care so much that I feel like I’m falling apart.”  
When Connor felt Hanks knees giving in he let go of his wrists and sank down onto the cold tiles of the kitchen floor with him, putting his arms around the shaking man. They sat there for a while, eventually Hank hugged him back and Sumo joined them as well, pressing against his owner to comfort him.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn’t talk anymore for the rest of the night, Connor helped Hank get into bed around 1 in the morning and then he was left alone with Sumo in the dark house. He felt like he had to just do _something_ , taking Sumo out for a walk was what first came to mind but he also didn’t dare leave Hank alone. So, he cleaned the house instead. He started with the bathroom, moved on to the living room and finally ended up in the kitchen.  
  
As expected he found the gun in one of the cupboards.  
He took a deep breath as he went to take out the single bullet. The next shot would’ve been it again. Connor shook his head.  
_Don’t think about it, Hank is alive, nothing happened. He’s alive.  
_  
He put the gun back in its place and then went on a thorough search for any remaining magazines. He was aware that Hank eventually had to get new ones. After all he still was a cop and needed to carry a loaded gun but for now Connor needed to make sure Hank was save, and so he put all magazines he found into the trash and took it out afterwards.  
  
After that he collected all of the empty bottles around the house as well as empty take out boxes and the spoiled food in Hank's fridge. He’d take the bottles to the recycling machine when they went grocery shopping later that day, which was very necessary since the only edible thing left in Hank's house was cereal, not even milk, just cereal.  
Connor let out a sigh as he realized that he was going to have to order breakfast for Hank.  
  
When Connor was done with cleaning the sun was already rising. He took a quick look around the living room, the picture of Cole in his hands. He was aware that it probably wasn’t his place to put the picture up somewhere, but to him it just felt wrong knowing that Hank probably hid it in some drawer most of the time. If he ever was going to get over the loss of his son he needed to start facing it head on, every day. Also, Cole deserved an actual place in Hank's house.  
He put it next to the Cactus by the TV for now, he wouldn’t stop Hank from choosing a different place as long as it wasn’t the inside of a drawer.  
  
After that he ran a quick search on delivery services that were already open and willing to, well, actually deliver food at 7 in the morning but the only place he could find was a bakery offering ‘emergency birthday cake deliveries'. Connor felt like handing Hank a birthday cake the day after a suicide attempt would be a little tasteless, on the other hand making him eat dry cereal would quite literally be tasteless and Hank needed to eat something. “Emergency birthday cake it is then,” Connor muttered to himself as he placed the order.  
45 minutes later he was standing outside Hank's house, taking the cake from the delivery man, successfully ignoring his puzzled reaction to an android buying birthday cake this early in the morning.  
Back inside Connor cut a piece out of the cake, put it on a smaller plate and left it on the table together with a fork. He heard a silent groan coming from Hank's bedroom, pressed the button on the already prepared coffee machine and then made his way towards Hank with a cup of fresh, steaming coffee.  
  
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said with a calm voice, standing in the doorway. Hank was sitting on the side of the bed, facing away from him, his hands running through his hair.  
“Ah fuck I feel like pure shit,” Hank mumbled with a low voice.  
“I prepared coffee and breakfast for you, if you want to eat something, although I highly recommend you do.”  
  
At that Hank turned around, gaze falling to the mug in Connors hands, his eyes were still red and puffy, with dark circles below them. “Leave the mug on the bedside table over there, I’ll be in the kitchen in a second, just wanna get dressed first.”  
Connor nodded, put down the coffee and then made his way back, to the kitchen where Sumo was waiting for him, staring at him with big, begging eyes.  
“Yes, yes boy I’ll get you breakfast too,” Connor murmured as he petted the dog.  
While he was filling up the dog bowl by the door he heard hank shuffling from his bedroom to the kitchen.  
  
“Connor?”  
“Yes, Lieutenant?” Connor got up from petting Sumo and turned to face Hank. The other man was wearing an old, washed out Detroit Police sweater and joggers that were probably equally ancient, the cup of coffee in his hands as he looked back and forth between Connor and the cake.  
“What the fuck? Why did you bake me a fucking birthday cake? My birthday was in September that’s just a tiny bit late, you know?”  
“Well I didn’t exactly bake it myself. I cleaned out your fridge and all that was left was cereal and the only place delivering food this early in the morning was a bakery and this is one of their emergency birthday cakes.  
“Emergency birthday cake? Seriously?”  
“Most certainly.”  
Hank snorted at that, put down his mug and ran his finger through the frosting of the cake, Connor winced a little at that.  
“Tastes good though,” Hank said after having licked the frosting off his finger, then he sat down to properly eat the cake.  
  
A weight lifted off of Connors chest, he was afraid that Hank would be … different, after last night but it was like nothing had happened. Connor was aware that this was probably just Hank covering up his true feelings but for now, this was easier to deal with.  
  
Hank ate three more pieces of cake, then he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his stomach.  
“So?”  
“So …?”  
“So.”  
“So …”  
Connor was looking confusedly at Hank, although he exactly knew what Hank was trying to say, and he also exactly knew why he had trouble saying it because he felt the exact same way.  
How do you talk to someone that almost killed themselves just a few hours prior?  
How do you talk to someone that prevented you from killing yourself just a few hours prior?  
  
“I feel like I should thank you …,” Hank started “but I don’t know yet if I even am thankful.”  
Connor nodded slowly. “I understand.”  
“Do you?”  
“No.”  
  
Hank sighed, letting his arms fall to his side and leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling.  
“Fuck Connor, what are we even doing here? It doesn’t even matter, you just postponed the inevitable. I’m gonna die one way or another, what does it matter if it’s old age or my fucking gun killing me?”  
“It’s not your ‘fucking’ gun killing you, it’s you killing yourself and it _does_ matter and it matters because I care.” Connor clenched his fists, he wasn’t quite ready to have this conversation _again_ this soon.  
  
“Oh don’t start with this again Connor, you’re an Android not a record player.”  
Connor, quite frankly, was angry. Hank was behaving like a child and Connor was aware that this was a defense mechanism but still.  
  
“Hank would you please just shut up and stop downplaying my feelings?! You don’t get to decide how I feel, _I_ do, and when I say I care I mean it. And I’m aware that you are going to die someday but you deserve a chance at a good and happy life, whether you feel that way or not and I won’t let you pass up that chance by putting a damn bullet through your head.”  
After Connor was done with his outburst Hank just stared at him, dumbfounded.  
  
“Connor I … I don’t think I can be happy. It’s not like I haven’t tried the past years.”  
“You’ve been drinking less since we started working together, Captain Fowler pointed out to me that you’ve been working more efficiently and that you’re starting to remind him of the Hank he went to the academy with and just the other day Ben told me that he noticed you’re smiling and laughing more again. You’re changing Lieutenant, even if you might not notice it yet. And I want to be here for this, I want to be here every step of the way and I won’t just leave when you have bad days. ”  
Connor made his way around the table and stopped in front of Hank, grabbing his arm to pull him up from the chair and then pulled him into a hug.  
  
At first Hank just stood there, not quite sure how to react with Connors arms around him, until he slowly reciprocated the embrace. He was a little shocked at what Connor had said, never in his life would he have thought that the most sincere words he’d ever hear in his life would come from an Android, this was the most emotion Connor had shown so far and under different circumstances Hank would’ve probably been fascinated.  
   
As he relaxed a bit more in Connors arms he let his eyes wander through the room, he bit on his bottom lip when he noticed the picture of his son next to the TV, tears forcing themselves back into his eyes. As Connor noticed that Hank was slightly shaking again he let go of him. Upon seeing a tear roll down his cheek he followed Hank's gaze to the photograph of Cole and understood. He put a hand back on Hank's shoulder, squeezing it lightly.  
“You know Lieutenant, I’m pretty sure he’d want you to be happy as well. He’s not gone just because he isn’t here; he’s still a part of your life, a part that you shouldn’t push away. Embrace the pain of his loss but also embrace the love you still have for him and carry the good memories with him in your heart.”  
Hank looked off to the side, avoiding Connors gaze.  
“You really do care, huh? You fucking care about me …”  
“Yes, I _fucking_ care about you.”  
Hank let out a short laugh at Connor using the swear word to emphasize what he said.  
When he looked back at Connor he was smiling at him again, that slightly crooked smile Hank liked so much.  
“When did you become this damn smart anyway? You sound like a fucking therapist.”  
“I didn’t intend to sound like that … this wasn’t part of my program or anything … I was simply saying what came to my mind and felt right.”  
“Damn Connor, you might be more human than what people give you credit for.”  
  
\- - 10101 - -  
  
The following two weeks Connor spent every single night at Hank's place. Either checking in on him in the evening or going straight home with him after work when he already sensed that Hank was not having the best day. They spent some evenings talking about trivial things, some talking about deep and personal things, some evenings they didn’t talk at all and just enjoyed each other’s company.  
On their days off Connor pretty much forced Hank to do something that wouldn’t be hanging around in his house, staring into the abyss and hating himself. So sometimes they went to the dog park with Sumo, sometimes Connor was trying to teach Hank how to cook simple meals (but it mostly it was just Connor cooking and Hank watching him) and they even went to the cinema once.  
  
While Connor in the beginning did this to be right there to help Hank manage his depressed and suicidal thoughts, he ended up really enjoying all of these activities, they made him feel more and more like a real person.  
  
And then one day at the DPD, while Connor was getting ready to leave with Hank again, the other man stood in front of him, holding a plastic box that contained the few belongings Connor kept in his locker.  
“Hurry up, I finally wanna get out of here, ‘ts been a long day.”  
Connor just looked at Hank, somewhat confused. “How did you manage to open my locker? And why?”  
Hank snorted. “Your code was the day you turned deviant, not very creative Connor.”  
At that Connor put one of his hands on his hip, raising and eyebrow. “Says the man whose passwords all are ‘fuckingpassword’.”  
Hank glared at him for a second and then smiled again. “Yeah whatever, anyway I’m taking your stuff home,” Hank said as he turned around and made his way for the door.  
“Wait Lieutenant … home?”  
Hank turned around to look at him again.  
“Yeah home,” Hank was imitating the way Connor said it “What else am I supposed to call my house? The residence of Hank Anderson and Connor? And by the way, it’s Hank, not Lieutenant, got it?”  
“Oh … I’ll join you in a second then … Hank.”  
Connor watched Hank leave the Police Department and smiled to himself as he put on his jacket.  
_Hank._  
_Home._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo that's that!  
> I'm actually quite proud of this because I also put some, like, personal emotions in there. I used to be suicidal when I was younger and also struggled a lot with losing a loved one, not a child but my grandma and even 5 years later now I still have a hard time dealing with that (ironically today, so the day I'm posting this, was one of those days on which I miss her a damn lot)  
> Buuut the fics I have planned from here on are gonna be happier and also have actual Hank/Connor romance!! I'm really excited to write down all the ideas I have, I haven't been this inspired to write in years.
> 
> Also find me as @melasaik on twitter, instagram and tumblr  
> I talk a lot about dbh on my twitter and occasionally post fanart as well!


End file.
